Note: The song for this chapter is "The Bat's Mouth" by Bat For Lashes. It's a pretty chill song if you want to give it a listen.
2. The Bat's Mouth
The fire crackled low, the only light in the darkness. Mason watched the group from afar, leaning against the inner fence with her knees pulled up to her chest. In the distance, Rick and Pregnant Woman- Lori, she reminded herself- were talking. She hadn't had the nerve to ask anyone but she assumed Rick and Lori were together, despite the obvious tension.
After the yard was cleared, Rick and Daryl the Bowman took her out to finish their hunt. There wasn't much to find, but she managed to dig up a few cans of tuna from an abandoned car and Daryl caught a possum on the way back.
As promised she didn't eat anything, though her stomach ached like it was full of broken glass. The others split the food among themselves and the lift in everyone's mood was palpable, but she couldn't bring herself to join them.
She couldn't sleep but she knew she should. Tomorrow was going to need all of her strength. But though she closed her eyes she couldn't get comfortable, and her nerves continued to buzz with nervous energy, and so with a sigh she went to see the Asian kid, Glenn.
"Could I have my iPod?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure."
Mason caught a flicker of sympathy in his eyes and she looked away.
As she was heading back to her spot by the fence she saw Beth looking at her, and she wished briefly that she could join her by the fire. But Daryl had not lost his unfriendly glare, and Carol, the mousy woman, kept casting her wary glances, and besides, she was going to leave as soon as Rick decided her debt had been paid.
When she opened her eyes to the sunrise her iPod was still playing. She quickly turned it off. She didn't know when Rick would let her have her pack back and the solar battery would need time to charge anyway.
She reluctantly gave her iPod back to Glenn when he awoke and waited on the outskirts while the others stirred.
Rick appeared at her side. "We're clearing the prison today. I want you to come with us."
She raised an eyebrow. "Me?"
"You know how to kill walkers," he said.
"And you don't trust me."
He was silent for a moment and she wondered if maybe her dumbfuck mouth had cashed in her chips once and for all. Then he smiled wryly.
"Well we only have so many beans."
Against her will she smiled, too.
Glenn gave back her fire poker, and she was still breathing a sigh of relief at its comforting weight when Beth came up to her.
Silently she held out her hand and Mason blinked in surprise.
"It's not much," Beth said. "But you need your strength."
Mason took the possum meat. "Thank you."
Beth nodded once before turning and hurrying away.
Mason ate her breakfast quickly and then gathered with the expedition group- Glenn and Maggie, T-Dog and Daryl. Rick stood at the head.
"Stay in a tight formation. I don't want any stragglers," he said.
Hershel stepped up to the gate leading separating the field from the prison. "Ready?" he said.
Rick nodded. The whole group tensed into a tighter circle as Hershel slide the gate open.
The walkers met them immediately and T-Dog took the first one down. Mason followed Daryl and Maggie, bringing up the rear. As Daryl faced off with one walker another shambled up to take advantage of his distraction. Mason swung her fire poker and the metal cut easily through its mushy skull. He gave her a brief nod before pulling her back into the circle by the sleeve of her shirt.
They moved steadily through the cement yard, ignoring the cries of the group beyond the fence in an attempt to distract the walkers. The circle only wavered briefly when T-Dog grabbed up a riot shield and Maggie broke rank to dispatch a walker snarling up at them from the ground.
Mason's heart raced with adrenaline and the strange satisfaction of having five other hearts racing with hers. It had been a long time since she'd felt like a real part of anything.
But you're not a part of anything, she reminded herself. A pang ran through her at the thought, but she hardened herself against it. You can't allow yourself to be.
Rick pulled to a stop at a metal door and motioned for the rest of them to stay hidden. Around the corner Mason could hear the telltale groans of the walkers, and from Rick's reaction there must have been more than he thought they could handle.
Her sweaty fingers tightened around the fire poker. Her stomach twisted with anticipation.
Suddenly two walkers appeared from around the Dumpster, clad in riot gear. Daryl aimed his crossbow and crept forward, but two more rounded the corner only a few feet from Rick.
The arrow flew and bounced off the closest walker's face guard. Rick leapt forward but his machete bounced off, too, and the walkers closed in, snapping at his face.
Mason broke from her place in line, swinging her fire poker. Thick brown blood exploded as it sank deep into the walker's neck and stuck there. The walker limped closer, fingers grabbing for her face, her neck. Leaning back, she planted her foot against its chest guard and kicked it away. The fire poker pulled loose and she stumbled back.
More walkers appeared from around the corner, roused by the noise and the scent of warm flesh. The group leapt into the fray, battling in vain against the ones in riot gear. Mason found herself back to back with Daryl, facing off with two mean walkers dressed as guards. One of them grabbed her arm before she snapped the bone and rammed the fire poker through its skull.
Rick called for Daryl and Mason drew back to help Glenn, T-Dog and Maggie, who were all wrestling to pull off a monstrous walker's helmet off. Mason flitted in just as Glenn wrenched the helmet back, exposing its face, and skewered it with her fire poker.
Whipping around, she was startled to see that there were no walkers left. She relaxed her grip on the poker. Her fingers were slimy with blood.
Glenn and Maggie exchanged a hopeful glance and Mason felt buoyed by their expressions. They started heading back toward the fence where the rest of the group waited, but Rick called them back.
"Stop."
Glenn hovered uncertainly. "It looks secure."
"Not from the look of that courtyard over there." Daryl pointed around the corner where the walkers had gathered against the gate. "And that's a civilian."
Mason blinked at the body lying near their feet, at her normal clothes and delicate features. Very obviously someone who did not belong here. Her excitement dwindled.
"So the interior could be overrun by walkers from outside the prison," T-Dog said.
"Well if there's wall's down, what are we gonna do? We can't rebuild this whole place," Glenn said.
Mason glanced toward the fence. Her eyes landed on Beth, staring anxiously through the chain link.
"We can't risk a blind spot," Rick said. "We have to push in."
Everyone drooped reluctantly but no one hesitated when he lead them up a set of caged stairs and into the prison.
The commons area where they ended up looked grim and uninviting, and it reeked of piss and rotting garbage, and still Mason looked around in wonder. When was the last time she'd lived somewhere with four walls and a roof? Eight months ago? A year?
Rick retrieved the keys from the guard tower and let them into the cell block. They spread out to examine each cell; Mason followed Rick and Daryl upstairs to check the second level, but the only walkers they encountered were locked in and easily taken care of.
When he was assured that all the walkers were dead, Rick said, "Let's head back to the group. We'll bring them inside and go from there."
There was a faint gleam of life in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Everyone seemed energized by it. They hurried out of the prison, and when they came in sight of the others Mason found Beth and smiled hugely.
They met each other as Rick slid the gate open.
"How is it?" Beth asked.
"Well, it's dark and it smells like shit," Mason said. "But I think if you put a few flowers in the windows it'll spruce it right up."
"Is it safe?"
Mason blanched at the word. Safe. In her mind she saw that night, only a few months ago, that night when every face she saw was covered in blood and every sound she heard was a scream and there was nothing, nothing, nothing she could do about any of it.
She clenched her jaw and swallowed around the lump in her throat. Beth was still waiting, watching her with growing concern.
"As safe as it can be," she said.
~m~
They retrieved their belongings from the cars and brought them inside. Mason stood back while the others picked out their cells, and cleaned the guts off her fire poker with a tattered sheet. Now that they had fought past the immediate threat, exhaustion weighed down her eyelids. Her limbs felt as heavy as lead. Slowly she leaned her back against the wall and sank to the floor.
Just as she was drifting off, a hand shook her lightly awake. She startled, grabbing for her fire poker.
"Whoa, easy."
Beth's face swam into focus. Mason blushed and mumbled, "Sorry."
"It's okay. You know, there's an empty bunk in my cell. And that floor doesn't look too comfortable."
"Oh. Thanks, but-"
"No but's. You need to sleep."
"I can sleep here."
Beth was silent for a moment, her lips set in a determined line. Then she nodded.
"Fine. Then I'll sleep here, too."
"No, you-"
Beth sat next to her before she could finish, smiling brightly. Her eyes were wide and innocent and so goddamn blue, and Mason felt her will crumble.
"Oh, stop giving me that look, you…angelic charlatan."
Angelic charlatan? What the fuck is this, a Jane Austen novel?
Beth laughed. "Come on."
She slipped her fingers through Mason's and pulled her to her feet. Her skin was surprisingly soft even after life on the road, but there was something rough along her wrist…
"Top or bottom?"
Mason looked up sharply. "What?"
"Which bunk do you want?"
"Oh." Her cheeks flushed with heat. "Bottom's fine."
Beth smiled, and Mason couldn't tell exactly what twinkled in her eyes but she thought it might be amusement. She waited until Beth climbed into her bunk to settle into her own, and though it was small it was much more comfortable than anything she could remember sleeping in in months. She closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the cell was dark. She shook her head, disoriented, and realized that she must have slept without nightmares for the first time since…
She flinched away from the thought. Memory served no purpose, except to hollow you out. But of course she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep so, restless and frustrated, she crept out of bed and into the cell block.
Everything was silent, without the forest whispers she had grown used to on the run. It made the back of her neck prickle. The woods only fell silent under death's shadow.
We cleared this place, she thought. Everything's okay.
And she knew it was true. Rick had locked them into this cell block only after they had double-checked that there was no unexpected company.
But everything was so different, and it had all changed so suddenly. Three months without any human interaction, three months of nightmares, three months weighing the benefits of life against the benefits of death- and now here she was, pledging this indefinite part of her life to strangers. It made everything feel uncertain, rocky terrain on a moonless night.
She tiptoed past Rick slumped against the wall and climbed the stairs to the perch. Daryl was curled up there with one hand on his crossbow. Mason smirked as she sneaked past him to the window.
Her uncertainty eased when she saw the world outside, contoured by the light of the moon. Even the bodies in the yard were beautiful. She wished that it were possible to be outside and enjoy the night, like she had in another life. She longed for a private world that belonged only to her and her music and the silver blush of midnight…
"What are you doing?"
The voice came quietly but she still jumped. When she turned she caught a glint of moonlight in Daryl's eyes and it reminded her of the time she got lost in the woods and crossed paths with a mountain lion.
"I couldn't sleep," she said. "Sorry I woke you."
He shook his head. "I'm keeping watch."
"But we're locked in here."
"And you think that makes us safe?"
He watched her with eyes that knew too much, eyes that observed everything, and she knew he saw the truth in hers.
"No," she said.
They lapsed into silence. His eyes never left her face. The awkwardness made her skin prickle warmly.
"Well," she said when she could stand it no longer, "guess I'll just scoot on out of here."
He stepped back to let her edge past him, but as her foot touched the stairs she heard his voice again.
"What were you doing out there in the woods?"
She stopped. She didn't look at him in case she couldn't keep her expression together, but the pain was in her voice, too, and she was sure he heard it.
"Just hollering to some old demons."